Envy

CHAPTER 36

“So how ’bout you do some talking first.”

As Veck spoke in a low voice, he kept an eye lock on Heron. The two of them had ducked around the corner of the apartment building and were standing in the shadows next to a scrubby bush.

Jim’s stare was dead on and his voice was church-bell deep. “You know everything. All the answers you want?” The man put his forefinger on Veck’s chest, right over his heart. “It’s inside you.”

Veck wanted to hit that one back with a racket full of Whatever, a-hole. But he couldn’t.

“My father wants to see me,” was his reply, instead.

Heron nodded and took out his cigs. When he tilted the pack forward, it was all Veck could do not to take one: “Nah, I quit.”

“Smart.” Heron lit up. “Here’s the way it works. You’re going to find yourself at a crossroads. There’s going to be a decision you’ll have to make, an action to be taken or not, a choice between polar opposites. All of what you are and what you have been and what you could be will be measured on your decision. And the consequences? They don’t just affect you. They affect everyone. This is not simply life and death—it’s about eternity. Yours. Others’. Do not underestimate how far this goes.”

As the man spoke, Veck felt the two sides of him begin to split. One half was utterly repulsed. The other—

Veck frowned. Blinked a couple of times. Looked away and looked back. As God was his witness, he could have sworn that there was a shimmering glow over both of Heron’s shoulders and around his head.

And the bizarre illusion gave this whole nightmare credibility. As did the fact that the moment he’d wanted the guy, the fucker had been right behind him . . . and then there was the no-prints issue down at the quarry . . . and the light show that had happened in the stairwell at the Barten house.

Veck put his palm up to his sternum and rubbed hard at the dark shadow in his chest. “I never volunteered for this.”

“I know how that feels,” Heron muttered. “In your case, you were born to it.”

“Tell me what I am.”

“You already know.”

“Say it.”

Heron exhaled slowly, the smoke rising up through that golden glow. “Evil. You are evil incarnate—or, at least, half of you is. And in the very near future, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, you’re going to be asked to pick one side over the other.” The guy pointed to himself with his smoking hand. “I’m here to try to get you to choose wisely.”

“And if I don’t.”

“You lose.”

“Right then and there?”

The man nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. “And I’ve seen where you end up after that. It’s not pretty.”

“What are you.”

Heron’s expression didn’t change. Neither did his stance. And he didn’t even stop with the smoking. But one minute he was a man; the next . . .

“Jesus . . . Christ . . .” Veck breathed.

“Not even close.” He stubbed out his cig on the sole of his combat boot. “But I am what I am.”

And that would be . . . an angel, evidently: In the weak and fading light of day, a refracted, gleaming show had appeared over his shoulders in the shape of giant wings, making him both magnificent and ethereal.

“I’ve been sent to help you.” The man . . . angel . . . shit, whatever . . . refocused on Veck. “So when you go to see your father, I want to be with you.”

“You already have been with me. Haven’t you.”

“Yup.” The guy cleared his throat. “But not when you were . . . you know.”

Veck’s brows popped. “Oh, yeah. Good . . .”

Annnnnd cue them both looking anywhere and everywhere else.

Veck thought about that night with Kroner. “What if the crossroads has already happened?”

“The Kroner thing? Wasn’t legal.”

“Well, yeah, murder ain’t.”

“No, not like that. I’m not the only one who wants you, but the other side jumped the gun on that setup.”

“Other side?”

“Like I said, it’s not just me in this game. And trust me, the enemy is a real bitch—I’m sure you’ll meet her soon, if you haven’t already.”

Oh, great, more good news, Veck thought.

And then he blurted, “I was going to kill him. Kroner, I mean.” Damn, it felt good to get that out.

“You mean, part of you was going to. Let’s get accurate—you didn’t do the damage, and you also called nine-one-one, and if you hadn’t done that, he’d have bled out right at your feet.”

“So what attacked him?”

“You think you’re surprised to be talking to an angel? You don’t want to know what else is out there.” Jim waved his hand dismissively. “But that’s not what you and I need to worry about. We’re going to go see your father. Together. ASAP.”

Veck thought about that sensation of destiny’s arrival, the one where he felt like his life had slipped into culmination mode. Not even remotely a hypothetical anymore, was it.

“Is that the crossroads?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Abruptly, Jim lowered his lids and tilted his head down. As he stared out of vicious slits, he was downright deadly—and precisely the kind of thing Veck was glad he had at his back: He had a feeling he was going to need another good fighter around if he was going to battle this side of himself.

And that was what this was. A fight to the death.

“We’ll find out,” the angel vowed, “when we get there.”

Everything happened for a reason, Reilly thought as she and Bails walked away from Kroner’s room a half an hour later.

Kroner’s condition had degraded, almost as if his injuries were a sea that he had briefly surfaced out of, only to be pulled back underneath: He hadn’t been able to focus, had mumbled replies that made no sense, and not long after they had arrived, she and Bails had given up.

“What’s with the suffering thing?” Bails muttered as he held the door of the elevator open for her.

Reilly shook her head as they began the descent. “I don’t know.”

It had been the same as before. He has to know she suffered. . . . He has to know she suffered. . . .

She hadn’t a clue on that one—and no idea what the connection was between Kroner and Veck. Hell, at this point, she didn’t feel like she could trust her instincts when it came to her own name. Speculating on this mess? Total nonstarter.

As they stepped out into the lobby and headed for the revolving door to the parking lot, Bails checked his watch. “You want a drink? I’m due to go make my statement in a little over an hour, and I need one beforehand.”

Yeah, because when one detective has information like he did on another, it wasn’t the sort of thing that people waited around for. He’d called HQ right after they’d spoken, and within a minute and a half, the sergeant himself had set up a meeting of high-ups, even though it was going to happen well after business hours.

No wonder Bails wanted a beer.

“Thanks,” she murmured, “but like I said, I’ve got my rendezvous with my supervisor right now.”

So didn’t that make them two peas in a pod.

Together, she and Bails walked into the rows of cars, got into her unmarked, and did up their seat belts. They were both silent during the trip back to headquarters. Not a lot to talk about, and Bails looked as betrayed and sick as she felt.

They parted ways on a hug, and as he headed to his own car, she watched him walk off. Veck had put them in the same boat, and that meant someone who had been a stranger was now a kind of friend—

As her phone went off in her purse, she knew who it was before she took the thing out.

Veck.

Now, this was what they made voice mail for, she thought.

Except he would probably come looking for her, and that was the last thing she wanted. Face-to-face was to be avoided at all costs.

She hit send. “Hello.”

There was a whirring sound in the background, as if he were in a car. “Reilly . . . what’s wrong?”

In a dispassionate way, as if she were observing him from the far side of a two-way mirror, she thought, yup, this was how he’d seduced her: The emotion he was projecting in that deep voice was the perfect combination of concern and sharp-edged protection.

“I’m fine. Just out from seeing Kroner—we didn’t get anything new.” Not from the guy, of course. Bails was a different story.

“You don’t sound right.”

Which meant any aspirations she might have had for becoming a psychopath were out the window. What a shame.

In fact, the idea that she couldn’t hide things was a relief. She didn’t want to be like Veck. Ever.

“Reilly . . . talk to me.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about my job today,” she said. “It is not appropriate for us to have taken our relationship where it’s gone. I’ve compromised the integrity of the force, my position, and myself. I’m going in to see my supervisor right now and I’m resigning from your case. There will probably be some reprimands on my side, but I’ll deal with that—”

“Wait, what? Why are you—”

“—and I don’t think we should see each other again.”

There was a pause. And then he said, “Just like that.”

Now he sounded cold, and that was what she wanted—the true him, the real him. Even though it just made her realize anew how stupid she’d been.

“It’s for the best,” she concluded.

When he didn’t say anything further, she began to get rattled, because she had to wonder exactly what he was capable of. No doubt he’d been the one stalking her the night before last . . . But whatever, this conversation was over, and once she made her disclosures to her boss, and Bails went in and did his duty, Veck was going to have so many other problems, he was going to be too busy looking for a defense attorney to waste time on retaliation. Or at least, she hoped that was going to be the case.

Hell, even better, he’d been in custody.

“I have to go,” she told him.

There was another pause, and then his voice was cool as a cucumber. “I won’t bother you again.”

“I’d appreciate that. Good-bye.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond. Wasn’t interested in getting pulled into a long, drawn-out conversation where he tried to manipulate her again, or worse, dropped that mask entirely and threatened her.

Her hand was shaking so badly, it took her two tries to get the phone back in her purse.

Steadying herself against her car, she looked up at the butt-ugly back end of headquarters, and didn’t feel like she had the strength to go in there and face her boss.

But she did what she had to do . . . because that was how she was raised.